


Death’s Artist

by reigningqueenofwords



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 04:02:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18241988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reigningqueenofwords/pseuds/reigningqueenofwords
Summary: Request:  @deaths-maiden Can you do a Deathxartist!Reader soulmate thing where whatever you draw/write shows up on the other. The reader loves to draws and soon Death starts looking forward to seeing the drawing and they make him smile, eventually they start communicating that way and it’s just a lot of fluff pretty please?





	Death’s Artist

**Author's Note:**

> Request: @deaths-maiden Can you do a Deathxartist!Reader soulmate thing where whatever you draw/write shows up on the other. The reader loves to draws and soon Death starts looking forward to seeing the drawing and they make him smile, eventually they start communicating that way and it’s just a lot of fluff pretty please?

Being an artist, and knowing that art was something your soul mate would see meant the world to you. Whatever doodle you did while bored while on the bus to work would appear on their skin. You often wondered what your soul mate looked like. Would they have long blonde hair, perhaps? Short black hair? Shoulder length red hair? Or some fun style in a bright color? Would they have striking green eyes, that seemed to read into your very soul? Blue eyes that sparkled when they laughed? Brown eyes that reminded you of your favorite childhood chocolate? Porcelain skin that reminded you of fresh fallen snow? Would it have been kissed by the sun in that glistening tan? Or would it be they be the most lustrous ebony one could conjure up? The possibilities were endless, the combinations ranging from common, to the more rare.

And that alone to you was the most exciting thing that one could ever be faced with. Often times when you imagined your soul mate while you were in bed for the night, all you saw was an array of colors, that was always shifting. A constant shift taking place, never settling on any one combination. Your mind refused to picture up an actual person, keeping you all the more interested in the biggest mystery of all- who was your soulmate?

* * *

It never occurred to you that your soul mate had been seeing your work long before you were thinking of kissing, dates, holding hands, or your future. That your soul mate had been privy to them since you were in grade school.

Now, sitting at your easel, paintbrush tucked behind your ear, paint streaked on your face, your Y/E/C focused on the unfinished work before you, you were curious. It was actually the cause of your current situation. Your inability to finish this piece.

Letting out a puff of air, you decided a coffee break was needed. Slipping off your wooden stool that had certainly seen better days, your bare feet hit the cool cement floor of your basement. Why spend hundreds on a studio when you had your unused basement?

You made your way to your kitchen, humming to yourself. Some tune you’d heard in passing on the bus before. You couldn’t place it, but it was catchy, that was for sure. Pouring yourself a cup of the hot liquid into your favorite mug, you licked your lips, debating if you were hungry or not. Shaking it off, you perfected your coffee and moved towards the dining room table. Which, at this point, was more of an extension of your studio.

Papers, pens, markers, napkins with doodles, and more were spread all over, making it near impossible to sit more than two at a time. Finding a space clear enough to set your mug down, you got comfortable and sipped the soothing beverage.

Almost on pure instinct, you grabbed one of the many pens scattered about. It was a habit you’d started when you were young, and never dropped it. Part of the reason many of your tattoos were black and white was for the very reason. Your niece loved to help you color in your ‘pretty pictures’ once she’d seen you do it. Her face lit up, making your heart melt.

* * *

Death was a bit taken aback the first time he saw swirls appear on his skin. He’d raised an eyebrow, watching as it moved from a simply swirl, to more. A childlike rendering of a flower was soon surrounded by a very happy looking sun, and grass. The fact that his soul mate had been born, and was now likely of school age was a strange feeling. One he soon brushed off, pushing the thought of meeting them aside.

Over the years, the colorful creations that appeared had become something he’d looked forward to. Eager to see what your mind created next. Even in your ‘dark’ period of art, there were bursts of color.

He’d numbed himself to the uncountable number of souls he had doomed over the millennia of his existence, taking pleasure in very little. Especially when it came to interacting with others. He limited that as much as he could, knowing the fate of everyone was the same. The unavoidable death.

Smiles graced his lips far more often thanks to your art. He’d come to wait anxiously for the markings on his skin. Anticipation flowed through his veins as he would glance down throughout the day, awaiting to see what they would be. The moment he saw, he felt a fluttering in his heart that he didn’t know even existed.

It had been years since that first flower appeared, and he’d never replied. Never had he made it known what your work meant to him. Until you neared your 29th birthday. What would he write? Or draw? He was no artist!

Lifting the felt tipped marker in his slim fingers, he thought long and hard, wanting this to be perfect.

* * *

You were lazily chewing on a fry, your left hand resting on the table as your fingers drummed lightly. Something caught your eye, making you confused, as your soul mate had never replied. Yet, there it was. A black line making it’s way over your skin. Smiling, you were excited to see what they were drawing- just for you. It was nothing intricate, but it was beautiful nonetheless. There, going from right above your thumb, to just below your wrist, was a gorgeous set of swirls. Alone, they would be nothing. When it was all done, however, it created a beautiful design.

Biting your lip, you pulled out a purple pen. All you replied with was a purple heart, still in shock that they’d made contact for the first time. You hoped this wasn’t a one time thing, that they continued to draw, or even write.

You grabbed your things, dumped your tray, and rushed to the nearest tattoo parlor. It was a spur of the moment choice, but this was a turning point in your life. Whether you ever saw them face to face, whether or not they ever contacted you again- you would always have this.

* * *

Furrowing his brows, he watched as the same design appear on his wrist that he’d drawn for you. He smiled, realizing what was happening. Just like the other markings that never faded, these would be something that would always link the pair of you.

Days passed, and now and then he’d put something small on his arm. Your replies always made his day. It didn’t matter if it was a smiley face, a heart, or something more.


End file.
